


Nothing But the Truth

by Chummy



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Akechi listens in to Akira’s retelling of his story to Sae, Akira loves his bf, Interrogation scene, M/M, except it’s just Akira talking about how pretty Akechi is for like 30 minutes, hes infatuated leave him alone, me too
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-09
Updated: 2020-02-11
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:07:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22181548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chummy/pseuds/Chummy
Summary: “I said, did you know who was causing the mental shutdowns, I’m sure you must’ve learned their identity.”Oh.Well.“No.”Unbeknownst to both of the people that currently occupied interrogation room number 7, their unofficial voyeur watched from a few feet away, behind very tinted glass and burning silencer in his pocket.
Relationships: Akechi Goro/Kurusu Akira, Akechi Goro/Persona 5 Protagonist
Comments: 10
Kudos: 342





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I have a twitter now, come scream 
> 
> [Twitter](https://twitter.com/Zoldyke_)
> 
> Sup, been a minute folks. i’m back on my akeshu bullshit. i missed it :,) I’m replaying persona and was inspired to make this. Obviously in the game we never rat out Akechi because as the player we don’t know who he “really” is till he’s revealed. But still seeing how Akira doesn’t rat him out warms my soul and makes me cry, this is kinda my take on it. Akira fucked up on whatever they gave him, spewing poetics about his future attempted murderer to Sae, of all people. I think i might make a second part to this, interrogation room number 7 has seen some shit you know.  
> Thanks! Hope u enjoyed!

“You were active at the same time these mental shutdown were happening.” Sae Nijima sat in front of him, on the most uncomfortable metal chairs Akira had ever had the displeasure of sitting on. 

He wondered if Nijima’s legs were also slightly going numb because of them. Then again maybe those were the drugs talking. He hasn’t been able to feel his toes for a while now but has become hyper aware of his back molars tickling his mouth.

Weird. 

“Did you hear me?” Nijima asked, more than a bit annoyed with Akira. 

She had said something? He tried to think back to two seconds ago. Isn’t it weird how many teeth human mouths have? He tongued at his back molars. Oh Nijima was still talking.

“I said, did you know who was causing the mental shutdowns, I’m sure you must’ve learned their identity.” 

Oh.

Well.

“No.” 

\---  
  


Unbeknownst to both of the people that currently occupied interrogation room number 7, their unofficial voyeur watched from a few feet away, behind very tinted glass and burning silencer in his pocket. 

Akechi had been antsy. Who could really blame him? November 20th had been circled over and over again in bright red sharpie so much it bled through to the next month. Yet even with the constant reminder it had snuck up on him. 

He didn’t sleep the night before, granted sharing a tiny twin bed in a dusty attic with the boy you were going to kill in less than twenty four hours makes for awful sleeping conditions. 

That morning the goodbyes had been intense, with desperate kisses that prickled with a sadness Akechi didn’t want to place. 

His hands clench at the memories, leather gloves creaking under the pressure. 

He shook his head, there was no point in reliving memories that never _mattered_. That should’ve never happened, a tiny voice supplies him. 

A part of him can’t bring himself to regret them. A part of him can _only_ regret what's to come.

He tells himself he came to watch to be early, to get it over with cleanly and as fast as possible. To taste his justice that much quicker. 

Not because it’s another chance to see Akira before the end. 

Just for proficiency sake. 

He had been listening intently to Akira’s story. Laughing each time Sae raised her eyebrows in absolute refusal to believe what he was saying. He was also staring intently at the angry ring of bruises that colored Akira’s wrists.

He could almost feel them against his own.

Akira was battered up more than Akechi had expected. He chided himself for expecting anything less.

The police had been under constant media backlash and the harsh public eye. Ridiculed at the hands of the notorious Phantom Thieves and unexplainable cases of mental shutdowns. Now they had the Phantom Thieves leader and they were furious.

Still it was hard to see. His lungs burned with contained screams of anger against Akira’s treating, raging against his throat to be released. 

He didn’t let it.

It bubbled into a laugh at the realization of his own twisted hypocrisy, soft and slightly crazed, threatening to turn into a full psychotic meltdown if he thought about it any longer. But he had an image and the walls couldn’t be that soundproof, right? 

Akechi wondered how it would feel to see Akira dead. 

He ignored the heavy fear that settled into his spine. Willed the bile in his throat away and focused again on the ragged timber of Akira’s voice.

Akira was sparing no details, currently regaling Sae with a tale of a particularly rude customer at the convenience store. 

“Told me to call for backup. Like what back up dude it’s literally just you and me at the store you know?” Akira’s words were slightly slurred and strained, the drugs still in his system and the beating he took hurting his throat. 

“Yes that sounds stupid Kurusu, now tell me about this black mask character.” 

Akechi suddenly found it a bit difficult to breathe.

“And why would you even ask for a receipt on a one item purchase? Like the point? I don’t see it.” Akira answered instead.

Akechi knew, there was no way they could’ve known who he _truly_ was. It still had caught him a bit off guard, He reasoned it was the nerves. 

Sae began to ask about Kaneshiro, unable to keep the irritation from her voice.

Ah. Akechi couldn't help the smirk.

The Kaneshiro case, bane of Sae Nijima and the police forces existence. Turning point for the Phantom Thieves.

“That fucking pig, ugh that whole thing was gross. Stupid situation, and I had a field trip coming up too,” Akira mumbled, scowling at the memory. 

“How did you manage to change his heart?” 

“It was at the TV station, big, flashy, everyone there is as soulless as you imagine,” he ignored Sae’s question, pressing on.

“Back to Kaneshiro plea-“

“Well not everyone,” Akira’s eyes caught a dreamy far away look. That could partly be blamed on the drugs and could be partly be something else that Akechi didn’t dare entertain. 

“I met Akechi that day, yes _that_ one. That damn pretty boy everyone goes on about? Detective prince. I wanna handshake whoever came up with that nickname for him.” 

Akechi thanked the stars that he was alone and no one could see him because the steady blush that rode his cheeks was almost terminal.

“You, you met Akechi?” Sae seemed intrigued, which would’ve worried Akechi if Akira didn’t open his damn mouth.

“Mhmmm, best day ever, I thought he was gonna be mad cause of the things I said to him while we were live but no! Asked to hang out! That flirt,” Akira recalled it with his head leaning in his hand, staring far away.

“I’m not a flirt!” Akechi said to no one, he felt the blush rise to his ears. On the other side of the glass Akira’s eyes practically glowed as he continued talking about Akechi. 

“Sometimes we'd meet at the train stations, I’d bring him coffee, do you know how much sugar he puts into his coffee? I swear he runs more on the sugar in there than the caffeine,” Akira laughed softly, Sae looked mildly constipated. 

“So Kaneshiro-“

“He’s smart as all hell too, like obviously he has to be given he’s the _detective prince_ and all but still, I swear he studies just for show.” 

Akechi struggled to hide the chuckle at the mocking tone Akira said his TV nickname. He always did it whenever Akechi did something impressive or something extremely unimpressive, Akechi remembers.

“He started coming over a lot, to my uh, house, yeah, we played chess or just talked, I preferred talking but he gets this look in his eyes when he’s about to checkmate you, prideful, a good look.” 

Even through the tinted glass Akechi could see the faint pink that faded into the edges of his black eye. Sae tried her hardest to not look uncomfortable at all the details about a colleague that she tolerated at best. Akechi gave her props, he was barely holding it together himself.

\---

Underneath the ugly fluorescent lights, on the inside of an ugly interrogation room, Akira Kurusu was talking. 

At least he hoped he was, couldn't really feel his mouth but Nijima seemed to be listening so he must be saying something. 

The plan couldn’t work if he didn’t bare his all and that’s exactly what he was doing. 

Maybe a bit too well.

Oh well, he shrugged and cringed as pain flared on his sore shoulders and back. 

If it doesn’t work, he reasoned, he might as well relive some happy memories.

So he told Nijima about how he celebrated his best friend's birthday by going fishing with him, told her about how his cat snores in his sleep, told her about the lipstick he gave as a gift that his friend always wears now, told her about the beach and rainy days and late night walks in cities he had no business being in. 

He tells her about Akechi. He can’t seem to stop. 

Whatever they doped him up with left him with a very loose tongue. 

“His hair is as soft as it looks by the way, won’t tell me what shampoo he uses but it smells like strawberry tart and all things right in the world.”

He reasons, that maybe if he focused on the months they spent, the moments were no one could see, it would make what was gonna happen hurt less.

He knows it won’t.

But remembering their first kiss across a forgotten chess game and the exact scent of Akechi’s cologne, seems too good to pass up. 

Nijima uncrosses and crosses her legs and arms, brushes her hair back and tries not to reach over and strangle Akira to make him get to the point. Akira gives her props for it. 

“I haven’t seen him in a bit,” he lies and hopes he doesn’t see him for a while, thay Akechi never walks through that ugly metal door. “Busy, so many cases, guess that’s partially my fault huh? Think the irony of him dating the Phantom Thief leader would be just too much for him.”

Nijima gives him a sad little laugh at that. Akira gives one back too.

“I hope he isn’t worried,” Akira says, hoping Nijima thinks the tears in his eyes are just from his injury. “I hope he’s okay after all this.” 

He means it. Above anything he hopes Goro will be. His betrayal has been a constant knife between his ribs, that Goro ever so gently dug in deeper with his kisses and touch. A pain Akira welcomed and came to need. Akira doesn’t know why Goro has done what he has. Goro Akechi ever the enigma only let Akira get so close. 

Akira Kurusu, expert nuisance, dug deeper into Akechi than anyone ever before. He sits and regails Nijima with memories of the love he experienced with the grace of a drunken sailor in love with an angry formidable sea. 

“I’ll make sure he is,” Nijima promises him, Akira almost wants to laugh but is thankful anyways for her kindness. 

“So your next target, me.” 

“You.”

The walls were still turning around him and it was hard to concentrate on the files Nijima gave him, words seem to float off the page but he continued on, Akechi’s name no longer falling from his lips in the familiar sugary way it had the whole time. 

\---

  
Akechi stood and watched, heard all Akira had to say. About him, about them. He didn’t think about what would be said of him if Sae were to tell everyone of his involvement with Akira. In her eyes Akechi was a clueless, infatuated boy. 

In some ways she wasn’t wrong, he had almost swooned hearing Akira describe their first date, apparently he had been so nervous, asking his friends for advice.

Akechi could see it now, their group chat blowing up with stupid date ideas and perhaps even telling him not to go in Ryuji’s case. That blonde really did hate him. 

He couldn’t blame them. 

Akechi took notice of the sadness that tainted Akira’s words as he neared the end of his sonnet about Akechi. Of the ways his eyes flashed with so much hurt and anger so quickly Akechi was sure he imagined it. 

“I hope he’s okay.” Came Akira’s voice.

 _I hope so too_ , a part of him whispered.

Akira was nearing the end of his story, no mentions of Akechi again as Sae flipped through documents and notes. 

It was nearly time. His fingers danced across the handle in his pocket. Exhilaration and vile traitorous anguish cursed through him. It was nearly over, soon it would all be over. He would’ve finally have won. 

He stood for a second. In the dark center of that viewing room, breathing deeply yet the air never seemed to fill his lungs. 

He remembered that morning, the sweet kiss goodbye he’d given Akira and how Akira had said they’d see each other later. 

He wondered if this counted as seeing each other later. 

A sharp ring ran through the room, pulling him from his thoughts. 

A text.

**From: Masayoshi**

**Is it done.**

Akechi looked back up, into unfocused deep eyes through the tinted glare of the window. Eyes that had held so much love for him, genuine care. Akechi didn’t notice walking closer to the glass until his quickened breath fogged up in front of his face. 

He took in Akira all at once, like the first time he saw him. Breathtaking despite the bruises that littered his skin. He remembered the taste of Akira’s skin beneath his lips, the sound of his laughter in his ear, the faint traces of coffee and curry in his scent. He say gorgeous and unaware of what’s to come. Yet he didn’t look the least bit defeated, it looked good on him. 

It would do him no good.

“Checkmate,” He whispered to no one.

To Akira.

To himself. 

**To: Masayoshi.**

**Yes.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sup lol

"Your palace is beautiful by the way.” Akira comments, nonchalantly as if his life wasn’t on the line, nearly to the end of his story and more clear headed than when he began. Nijima looked surprised at that. 

“Is it really? Aren’t palaces a culmination of all things bad and ugly in a person?” She said, small amusement playing at her lips. 

“Yes, but bad doesn’t necessarily mean ugly,” Akira smiles, “Bad things come in beautiful packages sometimes.” He says, mostly for himself, no longer talking about palaces but Nijima didn’t need to know that part. 

“I’m amazed you can still talk despite how worn out you look, and yet,” She pauses, hand to her chin and Akira fights the memories that bubble up of Akechi’s similar and endearing habit. “The look on your face isn’t one of defeat, why is that?” 

Akira smiles.

“Justice always wins in the end.” 

  
\---

Next door the viewing room was empty, Akechi left half way through Akira’s story about a very frustrating crane game. Akechi wondered if that was the time Akira won him the small Jack Frost that resides in the deepest corners of his drawer. Also occasionally harbors a spot on the pillows of his bed. 

He shakes the thoughts away and makes plans to throw it away as soon as he gets back. 

Akechi was making his entrance, rather re entrance, this time through the main doors of the police station. The first steps to a plan set in motion months ago. Making his usual rounds of access codes as his legs felt like lead with each step.

He wondered what Akira was talking about now. 

He knew Sae’s time was up.

 _His_ time was up.

The elevator door opened, stepping through and pressing for the numbers on the lowest floor, watching the doors close with a finalizing click. 

His justice would win.

  
\---  
  


Akira didn’t have much time left. He knew that and still he was dancing around Nijima’s questions about the traitor. 

Obviously it was crucial information to their plan, to his _survival._

And yet, every time she asked, with every ticking second and every slam of the table he couldn't do it. 

Wouldn’t say _his_ name.

“What is so important about this smartphone and who do I show it too?” Nijima was standing from her chair and Akira almost apologized for being so stubborn if it wasn’t for the fact that saying Akechi's name felt like it might actually kill him.

Heartbreak is lethal, he thinks.

“I already told you.” He offers as answer instead. 

Nijima’s eyes widen, shock and fear processes on her face. 

Bless the Nijima siblings and their intelligence. 

“You can’t possibly mean, _him_ ?” She says, Akira knows she doesn’t want to believe what she already knows to be true. Akira can’t blame her. He was there once too. Is probably _still_ there if he’s honest. 

He only nods. It’s all he can manage anymore, exhausted and beaten and he can almost hear familiar footsteps through the thick soundproof walls.

“But, all that you said… you care for him, don’t you?” Sae Nijima, main prosecutor of the Phantom Thieves, the most terrifying woman Akira has ever had the pleasure of meeting, looks, heartbroken at that moment. 

Akira only nods. Nods because that’s all he can do. Because that’s what he _needs_ to do. To live. To get out of here and maybe, just maybe if he does all that, see Goro again.

There’s knocking at the door that draws him from his thoughts. He looks up to Sae, for what may very well be the last time.

“It seems my time is up, I’m placing my bet on you,” Akira breathes a little easier then and stops breathing all together as her hands reach the door. “What good will this do though?” she mutters, Akira pretends not to hear.

And then she’s gone.

Akira has half a mind to pass out. But he waits instead, strains his ears listening to any passing sound only to get white noise, waits. 

For his one and only traitor. 

For his true justice.

  
\---  
  


Outside of interrogation room 7, Sae Nijima takes a breath. Tries to steady her still reeling head. Tries to calm the storm of emotions raging inside her when Goro Akechi walks down that cold corridor towards her. Same usual smile in place of his pretty boy features. She can't blame Akira for falling for him, can't help but feel for him if all he said was true.

Outside Interrogation Room 7 Sae Nijima keeps up her end of the deal. 

Outside Interrogation Room 7 Sae Nijima prays for the two boys that currently occupied it.

  
\---

  
Akira looked worse in person. The harsh light doing nothing for the blooming bruises Akira seemed to wear with something akin to … pride? He didn't have time to ponder it, instead reaching for the gun on the guards belt and firing directly into the man's chest. His body hit the floor with a resounding thump, he could hear Akira’s breathing pick up with fear. 

Oh, how differently he looked at Akechi now. Gone was the lovestruck look that had been housed in this room while regaling Sae with their escapades. Then again gone was the Goro Akechi Akira knew.

A part of him wondered if he ever existed. The rest of him knows that the realest he’s ever felt has been by Akira’s side. 

He says none of that. He doesn't get the chance too because Akira does what he’s been doing the whole time he's been sitting in that damn metal chair. 

He talks. 

Akechi can't bear to listen. 

Akira cant say he was surprised to see Akechi. Hed been preparing for this for a month, since the moment he woke up that morning, since the last kiss goodbye they shared. Akechi didn’t look him in the eye as he entered, didn’t look at him as he shot the guard nor as he adjusted the silencer on the gun.

He doesn't know what comes over him, where the strength that rushes through him comes from, it might be the sight of those familiar gloves wrapped around the trigger, it might be the hazel of Akechi’s hair, so bright under these lights, maybe it's the realization this might be the last time he can say something to Goro. 

To his Goro.

The Goro who won't meet his eyes. 

“Nice seeing you my hero,” Akira says, through the lump in his throat, he manages a smirk he hopes is alluring. Going by the hitch of breath Akechi gives in response, it is. 

Akechi meets his eyes. 

Russet wine mixed with so much anger that twists to frustration.

Akira swoons.

“Hero?” Akechi all but spits out, violent and angry, “Haven’t you pieced it together by now, dear _leader_?” 

Despite all the venom in his words, Akira only smiles, a grin full of sharp teeth that Akechi is all too familiar with. A smile he's felt on his skin. It makes his blood boil to remember.

“Of course I have,” Akira says, stretches his legs as if he's laying on a couch relaxing instead of having a gun pointed at him. “I think this is a pretty big hint Goro.”

Akechi wants to tell him not to call him that. He doesn’t get the chance.

“Tell me something, honey,” Akira’s words drip past his teeth with pain and sweetness. 

“Don’t call me that!” Akechi nearly screams, head swimming with all the times Akira called him that. Kissed it against his cheek, whispered it into his hair, texted it to him from his train stop. His hand tightened on the handle of the gun and yet, Akira pressed on. 

“Okay, love,” 

“Kurusu,” Akechi warns. His wills his hands not to shake. 

“Ah I miss you calling me that.”

“Shut up.”

“You are in the best position to shut me up, Goro.” Akechi fights the urge to strangle the smug look off Akira’s face. God was he _infuriating_. God would he _miss him_. God, his justice was so _close_.

“You should've been here earlier, I'm sure Nijima would have enjoyed me shutting up a bit.” Akira laughed and Akechi committed the sound to memory, just as he'd done to all the ones before.

“I know,” Akechi let himself reply, his tone soft, unlike the cold metal in his hands. “I was listening. Did you really need to tell her about us making out at the TV station?” Akechi doesn't know why he was feeding into this, buying Akira more time, talking to him as if they were in that dusty attic Akechi had begrudgingly grown to love and not their current situation. But he did. He ignored how his heart ached because of it. 

Akira smiled, it reminded Akechi of the scarlet roses that Akira kept at the flower shop. Bright, beautiful, full of thorns.

“She told me not to skimp on details and I told her nothing but the truth.”

The weight of the words wasn't lost on either of them. The way he spoke Akechi's name, with every syllable traced with adoration, every story laced with love, every memory given in grace, with so much rawness it felt as if he was intruding on something private if he had not lived those moments with Akira.

Shared them with Akira. Made them with Akira. 

“The truth huh?” Akechi scoffed, and Akira held back a flinch.

“Tell me your truth Akechi.” Akira says, voice a near order.

Akechi doesn’t answer. 

He takes aim. 

“Is this your justice?” Akira asks.

Plainly and looking at Akechi with a fierceness he has only seen mid battle, gazing behind a domino mask, giving orders and fighting with grace. Akira was always in his element like that. How could he be right now? Gun to his head, with his lover behind the trigger. Akechi nearly forgot he quite literally had the upper hand with how Akira was looking at him.

So many emotions raged behind those dark eyes, Akechi didn't have the time to decipher them. 

His phone buzzed in his pocket. 

“It is.” He answers and finally, blessedly, Akira seems to deflate, the weight of his situation finally collapsing onto his shoulders, Akechi revels in the tiny victory while another piece of him cries against it,

His fingers tighten on the trigger.

Akira says nothing for once. Only looks up at Akechi, and he takes Akira all in. He sees Akira without those cuts and bruises, the handcuffs on his wrists. He sees Akira bathed in the afternoon sun, sees Akira behind the tower of a black rook piece, sees Akira with cupcake frosting on his cheek,a cup of coffee in his hands, Akira’s eyelashes brushing his cheeks as he kisses Akechi with all hes got. 

His phone buzzes.

He hears Shido’s voice, feels his hands on his shoulder, smells his cologne in the air and breath on his neck. He sees Shido’s body, his shadow disappearing into nothing in front of him. 

“And this, my dear, is how your justice ends.” 

His truth lay bleeding on a cold table. dark eyes going dull, lifeless. 

Akechi placed the gun in Akira’s hand’s, fingers brushing against leather for a final time.

His justice, in his hands, finally.

Outside Interrogation Room 7, Akechi’s footsteps echo. 

  
  
Inside Interrogation Room 7, Akira smiles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hhahahhhh. oh god, im at sae's palace in p5 again and WOW god do i love her palace. such beauty, the architecture, the vibes, soundtrack. chefs fucking kiss. N E wAys hehe, akechis ultimate truth lies with akira but his justice doesnt and thats kinda what i was trying for in this second part. It isnt as sweet as the first because i think i am incapable of that but uh,,, please enjoy. Today i hand you, goro akechi angst tomorrow?? who knows ;). (i might add a third part, dont count on it, i so jus kinda like this fic alot pero tu sabes, dont expect nothin) ok bye love yall xoxo


End file.
